w a k e
by Calerna
Summary: Sometimes, you have to wake up. Don't fool yourself. He never called; wrote; sent-anything. The world has changed not only you but him as well. Despite it all, never stop hoping, dreaming, wishing. —SasuSaku
1. w a k e

This isn't connected to the c o l d, t h a w, and b u r n trilogy.

SasuSaku

Enjoy!

* * *

w

a

k

e

Sometimes

you

have

to

wake

up.

_Because he doesn't care._

You

can

distract

yourself

with

silly

fantasies—

But

you

can't

ignore

the

truth.

_Can't ignore what isn't there._

_At least, not __**anymore**_

You

never

knew

you

could

be

so

_**blind**_.

Just like him.

s i g h t l e s s

_Ignorant_,

of

all

the

little

things.

How

he

never

calls

anymore.

_Don't fool yourself._

_He never called; wrote; sent—_

anything.

Wake up.

He

never

needed

you.

At least, not anymore.

You (all of you) were his crutch.

Just **something**, somebody—to help him stand.

Nothing less, nothing more.

Does

it

surprise

you?

_Maybe you knew all along._

You had to try.

Just to know—just to see—if you could heal his broken heart; mend his hideous wounds; be his sacred, secret safe place.

**even if you already knew the answer**

This is your wake-up call.

_3:03 AM_

Watching the rain slide down your window; watching the silent world outside.

Dreaming.

That's what the world was doing; pretending, fantasizing, wishing, _hoping_

(_something you don't do much of anymore_)

But

you

were

awake.

**how can life be so **

_**cruel**_?

Your hopes and dreams, _dashed_ into a thousand, thousand pieces

like the turbulent ocean, a _fragile_ glass bottle, and a steadfast rock.

When you think about it—

he never let you in.

_Not like Naruto_.

He had his moments, he had his slices of kindness.

But it wasn't—_isn't_—enough.

Despite all you know,

you

**love**

him.

"_Love is a very powerful word, Sakura_."

You know.

You know that very much.

After all, it was powerful enough to get you knocked out and tossed carelessly on a stone cold bench.

Sometimes, you wish being naïve.

_But you wouldn't take it back for anything in the world._

You're bitterly triumphant you've opened your eyes.

It hurts, like salt poured on an open wound—but it makes you a better person all the same.

You

**miss**

Sasuke.

But each frequently increasing encounter you briefly share makes you even bitterer, more angry, more hopeless, more hapless, more hurt.

You don't know him anymore—that you realize bitterly—and his eyes, once so soothing— _scare_ you.

They're still beautiful beyond compare, but the world has changed not only you but him as well.

Surely

not

the

best

colors

that

you

shine,

you

think

when

you

think

of

**him**.

_c r u e l_

There is no warmth in those bleak, mocking eyes of his.

They unfalteringly bleed to crimson every time you meet—just like the color of that girl's hair.

He calls you _weak_ but that only fuels your anger.

This time, he staggered away with three broken ribs, a fractured jaw, and several ugly, blooming bruises.

And it surprises _him_—who anticipated everything—that _you_ changed. You the one constant, the one variable he expected never to change.

Especially like this.

After that he returns to camp, Karin screaming at his wounds—looks at them all—and thinks how watery, how weak shadows; failed copies they are.

His _new_ team.

Because

apparently,

Sasuke

doesn't

need

you

anymore.

It tears you apart, it makes you so hollow and your clothes and bedsheets so tearstained you're not sure if they'll ever dry.

But they're weak replacements of what you Team 7.

_You and Naruto._

Karin, the simpering fangirl—Suigetsu, brazen, rash and hotheaded—Juugo, dangerous and schizophrenic.

He tried to use them to replace you,

but you both know it will _never_ be the same.

You can never replace each other.

**you're strong.**

Never

forget

that.

_Smile._

Because underneath it all, under the cruelty and coldness

he _cares_ for you.

Even

if

you

can't

see.

Don't lose hope.

Don't lose heart.

Don't be afraid to love, to hope, to dream, to sing.

This

wake-up

call

doesn't

mean

you

should

forget

about

everything.

He can still change.

People aren't set in stone.

* * *

_To be continued._


	2. s t a r t o v e r

The second installment of [w a k e].

There will be a third; not sure about a fourth.

We'll see.

**

* * *

**

**s t a r t - o v e r**

n e w

L

E

A

F

The executioner's block isn't terrifying.

No—it just lays out all your faults, your sins, your mistakes—all in front of you.

The crowd is a blur; their impassioned voices screaming threats and pleads pass over your head.

Instead you look around for a familiar shock of yellow and pastel pink, but to your hollowed, bitter eyes they're not there.

"_Sasuke-teme._"

"_Sasuke-kun!_"

You assess the judge reading out your sentence with a calmness that has always been there.

**a mask**

The rope soon to be tied around your neck sways back and forth in the breeze, but it doesn't scare you.

_liar_

Neither Naruto nor Sakura showed up for your trial.

Deep, deep, deep down inside you wished—**hoped**—they would.

But

you

ran

out

of

chances.

After

all,

why

would

they

help

a

selfish

sadistic

_cruel_

traitor?

**you have no right to feel upset, no right to feel angry**

(at no one but yourself)

You know that very well—but you can't stop yourself from hoping; wishing; dreaming.

How

ironic.

You'd once told your friends that those three things were for the weak, but here you are doing the exact same thing.

Then at the last possible moment, when the executioner is lowering the noose slowly around your head and grabbing the black bag—two _powerful_ sources of chakra spread through the gathering, threatening and terrifying.

**Everyone**

stops

in

their

tracks.

_hope_

Standing at the very center of the crowd are two of Konoha's most elite ninja.

"_Dobe_."

"_Che. Sakura_."

You _don't_ know why they're here, what they're doing or why they would come.

They remove their masks, and it hits you so hard you're almost doubled over, gasping.

Almost.

Their faces are cold, hard, unyielding—just like yours.

And then she moved so fast you didn't see her until the rope fell away from your neck and slithered to the boards.

"**Stop**."

Naruto's

voice

is

commanding.

It's

nothing

like

the

voice

of

the

thirteen

year

old

you

had

once

tried

to

kill.

Your eyes dart to gaze at _hers_, but she isn't looking at you.

"How—"

You

ask,

dumbfounded

and

shell shocked.

Sakura's silence is like daggers.

"_You don't deserve this_,"

Sakura says unwaveringly.

Her

eyes

are

like

those

of

a

vengeful

tigress.

"_We're not doing this for you. We're doing this for ourselves, for my village._"

There's a slight pang in his chest when she says _my_ instead of _ours_ but she was never really yours to begin with.

All you did with her—them—was throw them away, degrade them, mock them and betray them.

"**This is sick**,"

The Jinchuuriki you used to know hisses.

"**Immoral. He may be a traitor but is not the council's place to punish him. It is mine.**"

You try to catch Sakura's eyes, but when you do you look away ashamed.

They're hard with pain and icy anger, and it reminds you that _you_ were responsible for it.

"_What is the most gruesome punishment you have made_?"

Her voice drifts across, lilting and **dangerous**.

"He should be dragged through the streets, humiliated and then hung."

Is

that

what

they

showed

up

for?

It

is

only

right,

but

even

you

shudder

at

the

people

you've

turned

them

into.

Naruto turns to look at Sakura in alarm, but she refuses to look at him.

"_That will be your punishment_."

Your head whips around to look at her so fast you cannot breathe.

"_You ordered the ruthless slaughter of the Uchiha Clan, forcing Uchiha Itachi to carry out your sick, twisted deeds, just because you were afraid of their power. You have sat here for years, abusing your power. Now we will get rid of your corrupt government_."

There is instant uproar at the news, but Sakura raises her hand, quelling the uprising.

"**Sakura is right. No longer will we allow your sadistic cowardly selves rule our country**."

You look at her and suddenly you think she's _beautiful_.

You're sorry.

You're sorry for **everything** but it's too late to tell her so because you had plenty, plenty chances before.

You

say

it

anyway.

"Sakura."

She gives no acknowledgement that she heard you, but you persist.

"I'm _sorry_,"

you say so convincingly she freezes, and the raw guilt is in your voice and plastered all over your face.

"_That isn't enough_," she tells you.

"I know. I'm not asking for another chance—I'm asking if you'll let me regain both of your trust."

"_Why should I_?"

Her voice is venomous, but you don't back down.

"Because I was stupid, foolish, naïve—I know that it doesn't fix anything, but I realize now that losing you both was something I should've never done. I know it's too late to be apologizing but I'm _sorry_. I… I would do anything for you two. I'm sorry, Sakura. I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you. I know I was cruel to you, I know I was stupid and hurt you both. I can't ask for forgiveness or friendship or another chance because I don't deserve it. I just wanted to let you both know I'm sorry, and I'll _never_ let you down again."

Naruto turned to stare at you, shock plastered all over his face.

"**You're right. You **_**don't**_** deserve it. But I'll let you try**,"

Naruto said, and you could only stare in disbelief.

"Why?"

"**Because even though you're a traitorous bastard, you're still my friend; a brother to me. You always have been**."

Sakura said nothing, back turned.

"_I don't know_."

And then she was gone; racing through the streets.

"**She loves you, you know**."

Naruto didn't have to enforce his point about not hurting Sakura because he knew you knew. He wasn't giving you a chance right then, but he knows you will change.

Naruto wants to forgive you, and it makes you cry.

You don't know how he can let you back in, how he can give you another chance—but he does.

Maybe wishing; hoping; dreaming; isn't all that bad.

And you'll make it up to them.

You can't heal them, you know that. You can't take away their scars and you can't take back what you did…

but you can **try**.

* * *

_To be continued._


	3. h e a l

A year or so after "s t a r t o v e r".

Sasuke seems very OOC but hell, this whole story is in like a whole 'nother dimension compared to what's going on in the scans now. I mean I'm glad to see Deidara back from the dead and all that crap, but come on, it was so easily predictable to know that Naruto was gonna get off the damn island and fight eventually.

Dear Masashi, have you realized that ever since that one measly fight with Sasori Sakura hasn't had a decent shot since? What the fuck was that, blubbering like she was fucking 12 years old again when she tried to kill him? What the _hell._ Pull that stupid sexism out of your ass that's been up there for years or I'll force feminism down your throat for you. And if you don't do it soon... I may just find you and turn all your kunoichi into Amazon women and Naruto and Sasuke and all your strong men into big, blubbering babies with a penchant for crying and all things flowery. Don't say I didn't warn you :)

* * *

It's her birthday - you stand on her porch in the thundering rain, your hair plastered to your face.

She's spent a year - 12 months, 365 days, 8,766 hours, 525,948 seconds - running away from you.

And yet, it doesn't matter to you - if you could come back and reinstate your citizenship with Konoha and fall in love with Sakura, after everything you've ever felt and done - certainly she could forgive you, right?

You're shivering, ringing the doorbell, pounding on the door, yelling her name - but she either doesn't want to see you or she isn't home.

It

is

probably

the

former,

you

think

bitterly.

You swallow nervously, fighting off the chattering of your teeth.

You close your eyes and lean against the wood of the door, cursing the chakra-sapping seal on your wrist.

"I love you,"

you murmur into into the eye-hole, but the only answer you receive is the booming thunder.

And it's true.

You spend another five minutes hammering on her door until the front-lights of her neighbor's house flickers on.

"She's on a mission, dumbass!"

You wrench your forehead off the cool wood of the door to see a pissed, thirty-something civilian glowering at you menacingly, and with gusto he aggressively flips you the bird and storms back inside his house.

Your teeth grit together and you try to come to terms with desperately empty ache in your chest -

but

you

know

it

can

only

be

filled

by

Sakura.

Who doesn't want _anything_ at all to do with you anymore.

She keeps her distance from you in a way that's agonizingly painful, going out of her way to keep from you.

It hurts, but you remind yourself that you deserve it after all.

It did indeed use to be you in her place, and you weren't nice at all about it either.

"I love you,"

You murmur into the house anyway, and your words take flight and soar down the empty hallways and scatter shadows over her bed and couch.

You shiver violently, and with a reluctant glance back you head down the road.

The bar has suddenly become your home-away-from-home, and it is calling your name.

Unbeknownst to you, certain felfire green eyes had tracked your movements since you alighted on her doorstep.

"_Sasuke-kun_,"

she whispers, but it lost to the wind, rushing away from your ears.

You're right - she doesn't want to see you.

But...

You do not hear her nor sense her presence, and turn to the fickle arms of alcohol.

She comes out of hiding as you round the corner, and leans her own head against the door, wondering what you were trying to do.

She furiously beats at hope's broken, tattered, barely-holding-on wings that give a feeble flutter in her heart, but with each battering the flaps get stronger.

You

are

ignorant

to

all

of

this,

and drain your fourth glass in one swift gulp and demand another.

Something compels her to follow your tracks, to follow the whispers and eddies your thunderstorm chakra left behind and _find_ you.

A swift jutsu renders her unrecognizable, and she conceals her chakra, and waits.

You are so drunk you don't notice the girl's hazel gaze fiercely trained upon you,

but

you

lift

your

glass

for

another

dose.

You clumsily swallow the potent contents and shove roughly away from the bar, shrugging off a girl and lurching unsteadily for home.

You barely make it 100 yards from the entrance before a civilian calls out to you -

"Hey, you faggot piece of shit -"

they start, but you're so drunk you don't even care.

You're drunk and your head is full of

_sakura_

_sakura_

_sakura_

"- can't believe the Hokage wasted his time on setting your traitorous ass free -"

but the words barely register and the pain they inflict on you could never compare to the pain of _losing_ Sakura.

You're

blind

as

ever,

so

you

don't

see

a

blond

haired,

hazel

eyed

girl

shutting

them

up

for

you.

She follows you home, and her heart lurches and falls and stutters at the sight of you, fumbling at the lock, cursing, running a hand through your dark hair and half-falling into your house.

It's a dismal, saddening sight, and the sorrow wells up inside her and suddenly chokes her.

Her stare softens as you fall to the floor, crawling, not even bothering to shut the door -

and pity and love coalesce into one,

pushing away the anger,

and she drops the henge,

and starts for you.

"_Sasuke_,"

she breathes,

whispers

feather thin,

and you try to blink back your delusions.

Is she really here?

You think your conscious is trying to fool you, that your mind is playing sick, twisted games with itself.

But suddenly you are standing steadily upright when your legs feel like jello and you're not tumbling all over the place,

so maybe she is here after all.

Your vision is blurred; a combination of alcohol and your waning eyesight,

and you reach for her face,

tangling in her hair instead.

She breathes,

chokes

your name,

and

as

your

clumsy

fingers

trail

down

her

neck,

her

pulse

is

fluttering

into

overdrive.

She hauls you up and into bed,

and you don't know if you're hallucinating when you feel

a soft pair of lips brush against your forehead.

You sigh and nuzzle deeper into the comfort of your bed and pillows,

knowing regretfully nothing will have changed and she'll be as cold and aloof as yesterday, tomorrow.

...

With

a

jolt

you

wake

up

in

bed,

hungover and sore and tired and empty.

The storm beats relentlessly still against the windows, and you look down in surprise to see your shoes are off and you're in pajamas,

and your heart jumps to see a towel folded neatly over the back of the chair at your desk and a little note on the table.

Your chest swells with warmth and terrible longing,

and you can't help but desperately fall in love with her all over again.

Even though she is mean and bitter and angry and lashes out at you, Sakura is never cruel.

She

is

insufferably

kind

to

those

in

pain.

You've

seen

her

at

the

hospital,

how

she

treats

her

patients,

witnessed her blearily collapsing on her doorstep, overworked from saving the lives of countless patients - and you lifted her into bed and changed her clothes, who she always thought was Naruto all those times you picked her up off the floor, but was really you.

After you exit the shower, plodding down the hallway, you realize with another wave of gratefulness that the blinds are pulled tightly shut.

You find another note on the fridge and pull it open, finding a cold, fruit-filled breakfast prepared for you and a covered glass of smoothie, and a little napkin folded boat for two capsules of Extra-Strength Tylenol.

You scan your counter but find nothing out of the order.

Your heart squeezes at the pains she must have taken to do this for you.

You

sincerely

hope

she's

only

done

this

for

you,

even though it's a selfish thing to wish for and it's probably not true.

But,

Sakura's certainly never gone as far to do anyone else's laundry or pour the dosage of pills out for a friend - sure, she's left the bottle before - but never has she fixed her friend a drink nor tucked them in bed nor kissed them on the forehead -

so

Sakura

decides

that she's pretty screwed.

She doesn't expect to see the small clusters of pink roses and forget-me-nots and lilacs on her hospital desk - it's not big enough to be a bouquet, but she falls in love with it, even though she initially wanted to throw them away, knowing they were from you.

It is so like you, and she places them in a crystal vase and pours the packet in anyway,

not knowing whether to be furious or worked up to tears over them.

You were never one for a big show like this after all,

but she can't find the place inside of her to hate you or be angry with you after what transpired last night.

You'd mumbled her name in her sleep more than several times,

and had asked her in your dreams why it wasn't working and what she wanted and you told her all you wanted was to make things right and all you wanted was to _be with her_.

This was all voiced outloud, and with her honed senses she'd caught your sleep-talk.

She was originally just going to dump you on the bed and take your shoes off - but it had broken the dam hiding her feelings for you.

She smiles at the not-bouquet and decides that this is a _start_.

She still doesn't trust you,

but

that

is

okay.

You have plenty of time - for her to learn how to trust again,

and

you

to

learn

how

to

love.

Nothing is alright and the animosity towards you simply doesn't and can't melt away, but she isn't trapped and washed away beneath all the bleakness anymore.

Naruto tells her that you are really trying -

"**Just give him a chance, Sakura-chan. He loves you, you know. And you can't hide the fact that you still love him from me. You may do a good job fooling everyone else, but I know you, Sakura-chan. I'm not asking for anything big - just learn to trust him, okay? Try to be friends. Can you do that, please?**"

and because she loves Naruto,

she relents.

She hides her heart from you and doesn't open up to you like she used to,

but you are grateful,

and

you

tell

her

so.

You still hurt her sometimes (accidentally) and you both are far from perfect;

she is still hostile and bitter and you are still distant and don't know how to express yourself

and sometimes you both fight like heaven and hell or like the sea and the sky,

but you are both trying, working, fighting to get better.

And that is all that matters.

Naruto tells you she is doubtful, that she's still afraid you'll leave her somehow, and that it's not that she wants to feel that way, she just can't help it - and that she's insecure around you and that it's going to take a long time to patch up and repair those broken, bleeding bonds and she's afraid you won't have the patience -

and the next day you take her hand, lay a gentle, soft kiss on her knuckles, look deeply into her eyes to show your sincerity - and tell her that you'll wait as long as you have to,

even if you're stuck waiting forever, and that if you had the choice to do it all over again, even if the result was the same - you would gladly take that chance.

And you receive the most beautiful smile you've ever seen.

Her eyes aren't dead or filled with rage and swirling hurt like they usually are when she sees you,

and the hard, bitter line of her mouth softens for just a moment and for the briefest of seconds she is unguarded around you,

the tension seems to melt from her posture and her eyes are almost soft,

and hope swells its large, feathery wings inside you.

It makes your heart soar and your stomach fill with butterflies, and it doesn't matter when she hastily withdraws her hand and heads back to the hospital, unsure and wary, away from you -

and you remind yourself this is just the beginning, and you have plenty of time to sweep her off her feet.

(She's already swept you off yours.)

* * *

Pink: friendship & gratitude

Forget-me-not: remember me forever

Lilac: first love

yes, this was incredibly mushy.

lolol.


End file.
